I’ve noticed that as I get older the latter part of winter has this effect on me: I’m not unhappy, miserable or dissatisfied but there’s something there in my inner being that feels like I’m lumbering. But, seeing the sun starting to shine and the daylight getting just little bit longer and brighter and the snowdrops and other plants coming to flower, the lumbering is turning to slow cartwheels and an appreciation that change is on its way.
I’ve been to Kilnsea many times and after most of my adult life not visiting, yesterday I went for a walk around Spurn Point. And it was beautiful! And soon I lost track of time, eventually skipping back to the car after 3 1/2 hours,
Not many people had walked as far as I did, all the way to the lighthouse. About 4 miles. Apart from someone combing the beach, looking for their type of treasure, and an explorer with a camera. Nearly half a mile away from the lighthouse, we exchanged pleasantries and struck up a conversation and upon parting, I said it’s one of my wife’s favourite places to visit and she’d love to be here.
The walker told me his wife passed away last year. Living nearby, he and his family had fantastic day trips when they were young and he would never leave home until the car was full. Sometimes with neighbours or friends as well as family, parking up near the lighthouse where they would all just enjoy the day. As the family grew older and the children left home, he and his wife continued to visit and enjoy the beautiful changing landscapes and wildlife.
Since her passing, he'd intended to walk to Spurn Point many times but had only got as far as the cafe in Kilnsea before returning home. It was a path he'd travelled so many times with others but now had to walk by himself. So what a privilege to meet him where I did, near the lighthouse, on his first solo walk. With the sun shining and blooming common gorse smiling around us. Both of our journeys that day in much different ways, feeling around for the path of restoration.
Hozzászólások